When the house was built in 1790, George Washington was president, Congress established the District of Columbia and the nation counted 3,929,214 people in its first census.

Father Time, all can agree, has not been kind to the home, also known as the Sanford-Bristol House. Much of its historic woodwork had been torn out. The interior, by all accounts, is in shambles. And the walls are leaning.

Last days?

Now the house, on the National Register of Historic Places and in a historic district, may be on its last legs. Its street number is spray-painted in fluorescent orange and the grass looks like it hasn't seen a lawn mower since April. Unruly vines are snaking up the electrical service wires. The windows, despite the heat, are shut tight.

Lots of old houses are torn down every day, but what makes this an odd case is that its owner and the one who wants it torn down, William Farrell, happens to be the first vice president of the Milford Historical Society.

That's a group that usually advocates the preservation of old buildings, and which owns and operates three old homes in the city as museums.

Farrell's wife, Gwendolyn, said they would not comment on the situation. But at a recent meeting of the city Historic District Commission, Farrell and the structural engineers that he hired testified the house was beyond all hope and a safety hazard, with a jack in the dining room holding up the two-story, two-family structure.

The commission has given the Farrells permission to tear down the home, and the couple said that they plan to build a very similar house in its place. The lot is across the street from the so-called Duck Pond (also known as the Mill Pond), a dammed-up segment of the Wepawaug River behind City Hall.

There are only about a dozen homes left in Milford that were standing when Washington was president

Sore feelings

The fight over 111 North St. has led to prickly relations in the usually genteel coterie of those interested in Milford's history. Historic District Commission members took the unusual step of sending a letter to the editor of the Connecticut Post in which they accused two of their detractors of being inflexible.

"On the face of it, it would appear that neither was willing to have their pre-established opinions contradicted by plain facts and professionally qualified judgments," the letter stated.

The Farrells bought the home on Jan. 10 for $150,000 from Richard Wincapaw, who, according to neighbors, removed the fireplace mantle and other items of value.

He bought the house in 2005 for $445,000, and as with many who bought high in that era, lost the home to bankruptcy in Aug. 2012.

Stay of execution

All of this hasn't sat well with members of the Milford Preservation Trust, which usually works in concert with the both the MHS and the commission.

City Historian Richard Platt, who is a member of both trust and historical society, said that the house is in much better shape than the Farrells are letting on.

"I've seen homes brought back that were in much, much worse shape," he said. "It's a landmark house -- a Dutch half-gambrel saltbox with five small dormers across the front. There's no other house like it in the city."

As city historian, Platt can impose a 90-day "stay of execution" on any home 75 years old or older that is obtaining a demolition permit from the Building Department.

"I fully intend to issue that 90-day delay when I get the paperwork," Platt said.

He went on to say that it's not unusual for old homes to require interior jacks, and to need shoring up and other structural repairs.

MPT member Barbara Genovese said letting Farrell tear down an 18th-century home and replace it with a new one would open a "Pandora's Box" of similar demands from other owners. "The house can be fixed -- it's not falling down," she said.

"I care about history. We're losing so much history in Milford. Without history, you have nothing. If you're buying an historic home, you know that there are issues that you'll have to deal with."

The charm

Those who live in old houses are quick to tell you that they can have idiosyncrasies unknown to those who have always lived in newer homes.

The floors creak. Doors don't close properly because their frames are out-of-square. Windows stick. Kitchen counter tops aren't level. They can be drafty in the winter, and even difficult to ventilate in the summer.

"It's an honor to live in a historic house," said Roberta Burns-Howard whose house, roughly across the street, is a century older. "Milford has a record of not respecting historic structures. I've renovated seven historic homes, and you can stabilize any historic home."

She said that her home, built without closets, has its share of challenges for the 21st century. "You have to want to live with history," she said.